'Cause I can feel it and I cannae let any of you tell me I dinnea. You have your phantom leg and I have a phantom penis.'

Caleb raises his hands, managing to drop half of his cards as he does. 'I support my girl's right to have a penis, phantom or otherwise. Oh, thanks, baby girl,' he adds when I hand him the collected cards. 'You didn't look, did you?'

'Do it matter? You're losing on purpose to get to drink. It's your turn.'

'Fake news!' He smacks an ace over the two, flips over the deck, and adds a queen to the hearts with a doting look at Eilidh. 'For you, my love.'

'Reckon we're all more than happy to take your word for it,' Parker says, reviving the previous conversation as they fish ice cubes out of their glass to eat. They're wearing a pink friendship bracelet with "they/them" woven into it to indicate their pronouns for the moment. 'I'm not gonna cut mine off to prove you wrong.'

'Do you get to keep it afterwards?' Allan asks between fistfuls of peanuts.

Rishi looks a second away from committing suicide via plastic straw. 'Why would she want to keep it?'

Allan shrugs. 'I was just asking. Anyway, can we grab scran after this game? I really can't eat any more nuts—I'm allergic and everything's itchy.'

Eilidh, still relatively new to the group, seizes the bowl from him, leaving a trail of salted peanuts across the table. 'Why are you eating them if you're allergic?'

'Granda says you have to expose yourself to things to build up tolerance. And I'm so hungry.'

Eilidh stares at him with such intense concern, I wouldn't be surprised if her face gets stuck like that. Caleb leans in to her. 'See, this is why he's HIV positive.'

I nudge his foot with mine, shaking my head when he looks up. 'Too far.'

It takes a second to process and his eyes widen. 'Sorry, Allan.'

'All good,' Allan says with a genuine smile. 'You take crystal meth and try to make responsible decisions after.'

'Fair enough.' Caleb watches Parker check each of their cards only to take a drink when none of them are playable. 'Anyways, I have the best dick. I can make it whatever size or shape at any given time. I can have a tentacle for a dick if I want. Can any of you lot say that? No. I win.'

Rishi sneers. 'We're not hosting RuPaul's Best Penis Race.'

'Spoken like a loser. You can all suck my dick. And I've got enough to go around. So it is anatomically possible for you all to do it at the same time.'

'Can we stop talking about penises? Why do you people always have to talk about penises?'

'Because the rest of us like them, Rishi. But fine: baby girl, you should ask Joe to join us to the chippy.'

I choke on my virgin mojito. Everyone turns to me and I can't help but glance in the direction of the bar, though of course it's not visible through all the people crowded on the dancefloor. It's the first Friday after unis have started and though Sasha usually keeps the Spectrum age limit at twenty because eighteen-year-olds are annoying, he's not gonna miss the opportunity to capitalise on freshers; we've been fully packed since ten pm.

I turn back to find Caleb smirking. 'I said you'd be into her. You always had a thing for short women.'

'I don't have a thing for short women. Most women just are shorter than me.'

'Eilidh's taller than you.'

I raise my eyebrows. 'D'you want me to be into your girlfriend?'

'You better be. She's fucking fit and you know it.'

He keeps glaring at me until I turn to her. 'You're well fit, Eilidh. But, no, I'm not asking Joe– Why don't you ask her?'

Allan nudges me and I screw my attention to my cards. Considering I have three left and only one is currently playable, I can only drag my turn out so long.

Caleb is waiting for me when I finally play two of clubs. 'She's into you. You don't see the way she looks at you.' He waggles his eyebrows, which looks well trippy considering Caleb's actual eyebrows are hidden under makeup so it's like he's got oddly flexible eyelids. 'With lust in her eyes.'

The knowledge makes my blood hot but I scoff. Hopefully, it's at least a little convincing that I couldn't care less about that information.

'Course she's into me.' I stab the ice in my glass with my straw. 'Everyone's into me—I'm fit and good at sex. It's finding people who are more than "into" me that I'm having trouble with.'

'I reckon she could grow to like ya. I asked her about it earlier and in my very arrogant opinion, you check off most of her things.'

'It's your turn.'

Caleb rolls his eyes but checks his cards.

Joe just got out of a long-term relationship. She don't want to get in another one. She's tryna reinvent herself and have casual sex, that's what she said. But maybe, after she's had enough sex with enough strangers, she could want more...

'Her shift's over in five minutes,' he says, checking the time on his phone: 02:54. Go talk to her before she goes home.'

The others join in a chorus of "Talk to her! Talk to her!" So, handing my remaining cards to Allan, I climb out of the booth, mostly to shut them up before they get so loud Joe hears them over the drum and bass vibrating in the air. They applaud and I cringe. Thought: They can't see the bar from here. I could just walk right past it and come back a few minutes later–

The sight of Joe is a magnet.

I round the queue to lean against the very end of the bar, beside the swivel gates. Joe hands someone their tray of rainbow shots before Erica says she can leave. She smiles when she clocks me.

'So first shift. How'd it go?'

'Gosh, my feet hurt. I'm not used to standing for so many hours anymore,' she says, wiping the counter from spills and soggy mint leaves. All I can think is: I've got a place you can sit anytime ya like. And then I mentally shake myself. Definitely do not say that out loud. 'But really well otherwise. I think I'll like working here.'

'We're headed down to the chippy if you wanna come.'

Her smile shrinks. Maybe I just don't know her that well but... I think she looks afraid.

Avoiding my gaze, she busies herself by washing her hands at record-slow speed. Someone complains about her not doing her job and Erica and I both tell them to shut up. Seconds later, Liam shoves through the gate to replace her and the hackler flushes. Joe keeps her face ducked from my view as she disinfects her hands.

Maybe she thinks I'm asking her out. Am I asking her out? Well, if that's her reaction, then I dead on never will again. Maybe I really do have serial killer vibes...

I gesture in the vague direction of our booth behind the crowd. 'Like, all of us. Best fish and chips in the city—not that I'd know, I'm vegetarian. Excellent chips, though, can recommend those. As a coworker or whatever.'

Her hand raises to her necklace, pulling the white topaz pendant back and forth on its gold chain as she weighs her options. 'I was going to head home... But I am quite hungry. Yeah, okay, why not?'

Excitement blends with disappointment somewhere under my confusion but I strangle both before they can take root. This isn't about me. I have no right to be excited. I have no right to be disappointed. Reminder: She's here to have casual sex with strangers. Reminder: She just got out of a seven-year relationship.

I remember what she said about being lonely the night I drove her home. I have the best friends in the world. What, am I gonna gatekeep them from her cause she's terrified by the thought of going on a date with me?

'Nice necklace,' I compliment, mostly to banish the tension.

Joe frowns. 'My ex gave it to me.'

Good job, Nikki. Totally not fucking this up in every possible way, absolute champion.

Caleb grins when we come into sight. 'When's the wedding, then?'

'What?' Joe asks, halting on the spot.

I cut my neck behind her and he backtracks. 'Nowt. Just chat pure shit when I'm drunk, to be honest.'

'You chat pure shit when you're sober. Let's go already,' Rishi groans. 'I need some grub before I actually pass out.'

I hold open the employee door for the others to filter into the corridor even after Rishi punches the automatic open button and there's no need for a lever. Caleb, who's usually the one to take the lead, stays behind with me.

'What happened?' he whispers—well, as much as you can whisper in a queer club currently blasting Abba.

'She's in love with her ex.'

He grimaces sympathetically. 'Fuck. That sucks.' The lament is barely out before he smacks my chest. 'I know that probably makes her more attractive to you, but don't.'

I start to form a defence but it breaks down on my tongue. The self-saboteur in me is sculpting an imaginary relationship as we speak. I hum, a vague response that Caleb can't throw back at me later.

'Nikki, don't.'

'I won't.'

Notes

Cannae: Scots for can't. Pronounced can-ny.

Dinnae: Scots for don't.

Scran/Grub: Slang for food.

Chippy: Fish and chip shop.

Freshers: First-year students at university.